The just-released determinations of the UN Committee Against Torture, even if they have no other effect, should drive home the realization that U.S. detention and interrogation policy remains hostage to politically motivated lawyers behaving badly at the behest of legalistically minded political tacticians.

Lest there be any doubt of this, ask why the oversized U.S. delegation to the UN Committee's recent session relied so shamelessly on legalistic pettifogging and semantic parsing to fend off pending censure. Ask why the Pentagon has delayed release of the Army interrogation field manual that, by recently enacted law, is to provide the common standard for humane treatment of detainees in the so-called war on terrorism. At bottom, the problem is that nobody in authority has shown any inclination to deal strategically with an issue—torture—that has such profound strategic consequences for the United States.

What difference would dealing more strategically with torture make?

First, being strategic calls for consciously adopting and internalizing a coherent set of guiding assumptions and beliefs for dealing with the world. Such a “philosophy of global conduct” enjoins us to ask and answer many questions we otherwise might ignore or take for granted. For example, should moral considerations occupy a place of any particular importance in our strategic calculus? Does the application of the Golden Rule in dealing with perceived threats and enemies—treating them as we would want to be treated—strengthen or weaken us? Are such guiding precepts as principled consistency and disciplined restraint, if practiced, likely sources of enhanced or diminished security? Should justice—and the requirement for truth it demands—be sought in redressing and countering evil and evildoers? As the self-proclaimed world’s only superpower, do we have an obligation to lead by example, to set and follow standards of conduct that transcend established international norms? Or do arguably dire circumstances necessitate playing down to the level of the competition and mirroring the most unsavory behavior of our adversaries?

Second, being strategic entails effectively marrying ends and means—ensuring the adequacy and appropriateness of the tools and methods we employ to achieve the aims we ought to pursue. At one level, we must ask the age-old philosophical question: whether certain ends—especially ones (like preventing terrorism) that fall well short of survival—are important enough to justify extreme, otherwise repugnant means (like torture). At a grander level, we must recognize that for a democratic great power, there are three overarching strategic ends: providing assured security, preventing crisis, and preserving civil society. The attendant question this raises is whether torture serves or undermines these ends—especially where it repeatedly shows itself to feed resentment-filled desires for revenge, aggravate violence and militarism, heighten divisiveness among stakeholders, and subvert values we espouse and claim to represent.

Third, in the postmodern media age, being strategic is about effectively managing perceptions. Unlike the manipulative deception of spin and public relations we are constantly subjected to, the name of this game is a more sophisticated appreciation of imagery and symbolism in defining the reality we and others see. This is where credibility and legitimacy come face to face with hypocrisy and arrogance. It is where we confront the realization that, in the cosmic pecking order of international politics, we are constantly judging others and being judged by them to determine who stands—and deserves to stand—where. What makes a great power great, in fact, is not mere possessions or reach, but normative behavior and standing. For a United States that sanctimoniously and incessantly preaches peace, human rights, equality, justice, and the rule of law to others, there is little choice but for America’s deeds to speak uncharacteristically louder than its words.

Finally, being strategic involves effectively exercising power to get what we want, to bend others—friend and foe alike—to our will. The coercive use of sticks and the persuasive use of carrots—the former to exploit fear, the latter desire—are only too familiar to us. Too rarely, though, do we practice or even appreciate the intrinsic value of inspirational power—an admittedly esoteric, but singularly enduring and inexpensive, outgrowth of respect, the stuff of true moral authority. To inspire is to lead by example, to practice what we preach, to eschew inhumane and dehumanizing conduct that contradicts our stated values and self-image, to set new, idealistic standards that others must realistically emulate.

By failing to date to address such considerations, the Washington policy establishment has mortgaged America’s reputation and run up a strategic debt that could land the United States in the debtor’s prison of international public opinion, shackled helplessly in the ignominy of self-inflicted disrepute.

Gregory D. Foster is a professor at the Industrial College of the Armed Forces, National Defense University, Washington, D.C., where he previously has served as George C. Marshall Professor and J. Carlton Ward Distinguished Professor and Director of Research. The views expressed here are his own.

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